Bizzy day

I have to go down to the church and pick up the banner and literature for New West Pride.  It’s going to be so Nixonianly hot today I might as well pre melt myself and pour myself in Margot’s water dish.  Then I get to come home, lie down in front of the ac for a couple of hours, and in the evening get up and go (it’s in Burnaby, thankfully) to see Heather Dale and Ben Deschamps.  Morosely hoping there’s ac at the concert site.

And I don’t want to do any of it as the heat is making me wretched. I am also suffering the consequences of having worn pantyhose and heels for the first time in three months yesterday.  What ties a fool to his body?  A promise.  And lest anybody be upset, it’s a Dunnett quote.  It was CRUSHINGLY hot in here last night and the ac ran all night, which is just ludicrous for this part of the world.

This morning Margot came into my room and jumped on my bed, and at one point even sat on my pillow. She hasn’t done that since she was a kitten.  It turns out she was trying to get me to let Eddie in for his breakfast, at which point she joined him.  I wish she’d vocalize, it would make it easier.